


September, I remember

by Morbidmuch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 12:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21161564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbidmuch/pseuds/Morbidmuch
Summary: September 1st always brought back a lot of memories, as well as created new ones.





	September, I remember

**Author's Note:**

> This is unashamedly fluffier than a teacup pomeranian. If you squint hard enough, this could be set in the same universe as 'I will if you will'.
> 
> Also, this was very much inspired by an amazing piece of fanart by Kedro-boiz. Check it, and the rest of their amazing art, out here: https://kedroboiz.tumblr.com/post/187901906039/we-love-your-snape-art-please-perhaps-some

_The autumn winds blow chilly and cold_  
_ September, I remember_  
_ A love once new has now grown old_  
-

Hermione had always loved the start of September. When she was young, it marked the end of a long and lonely summer and the start of school. Now, school was just as lonely; the other children in her class thought that little Hermione Granger with her frizzy hair and large front teeth was strange and kept their distance, but she didn't really mind. On September 1st she was always prepared with brand new pencils and notebooks, ready to soak up all the knowledge her teachers could provide.

Then, one May evening the Granger's had a visit from one Professor Minerva McGonagall and Hermione's life changed. She had never looked forward more to September 1st than she did after she got her Hogwarts letter. Her excitement as they'd entered King's Cross knew no bounds, even after she realised that her parents, being muggles, wouldn't be able to follow her through Platform 9 ¾ to the Hogwarts Express. This was the start of something new and wondrous and there was nothing that could bring her down.

The feeling didn't lessen as she grew older; September 1st always came with excitement and longing to be back at Hogwarts. The older she got though, the more feelings accompanied her excitement. Nervousness, fear, anxiety, frustration, anger. On what should have been her seventh return to Hogwarts, she watched in terror from the library window of Grimmauld Place as half a dozen Death Eaters stood watch on the pavement outside, waiting for them to appear.

Four months after the end of the war, she was once again preparing for September 1st. The excitement was there, ingrained into her and she relished its familiarity. They were all a bit more bruised now, and more mature. It became evident when someone dropped a trunk on the platform and everyone ducked to the ground. Trying so very hard to calm her racing pulse and shaking hands, Hermione was the first on her feet. The younger students looked up to her, she had to set a good example.

After that, Hermione never thought she'd love the start of September again. The proof of how wrong she'd been was currently walking a few meters ahead of her, his dark hair slightly tousled from the wind. A broomstick was strapped to his back, and a blue and bronze scarf was wrapped around his neck. Though his back was towards her, she knew a newly obtained Prefect's badge was pinned to his coat. When it had arrived the day before, her shriek of excitement had frightened their owl so badly it nearly fell off its perch. Her hug had been tight, and her son had muttered “mum” as if she was embarrassing him. His smile was wide though, and he returned her hug just as fiercely.

A light squeezing of her hand brought her attention to the man at her side. Tall, lean and black-clad, he didn't look dissimilar to the first time she'd laid eyes on him. The signs of years passed were present in the lines on his face, but his hair showed only a few greys among the black strands and no amount of food could change his lean physique. Though still hooked-nosed and stern-faced, there was a relaxation to his shoulders which years of being free from two masters on opposite sides of the war had brought on. To Hermione, he was still the most striking man she had ever known.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason for your scrutiny of my person?”

Hermione smiled. “No. Just looking at my husband.”

He snorted. “Sentimental Gryffindors.”

Chuckling, she pushed a curly strand of hair behind her ear. Ahead, their son was about to walk through the divider between Platforms 9 and 10 and glanced back at them before doing so. His eyes were lighter than Severus' and his nose wasn't as dramatic, but there was no doubt as to his parentage.

As he disappeared through to Platform 9 ¾, Hermione spoke. “Can you believe he'll be sitting his OWLs this year? It feels like yesterday he received his Hogwarts letter.”

“The years have gone fast, I agree,” Severus said. “Although, it doesn't seem that long ago that you first came to Hogwarts either. You were a particularly insufferable child.”

Stopping before the divider, Hermione turned to face him. “Very funny, love. At least our son didn't get your disposition.”

Severus smiled and placed his hands gently on either side of her face. His wedding band was cool against her skin, but his hands were warm. “Touché,” he muttered before touching his lips to her slightly. Once they parted, his hands slid to her waist and he guided her backwards through the barrier.

The platform was much livelier than the platform they had just come from. As they walked down the platform, Hermione saw plenty of familiar faces. There were Ernie Macmillan and his wife along with their children, as well as Padma Patil and her twins. Further down, she spotted a shock of black hair and the glint of glasses in the light. Harry didn't see her, as he was talking sternly with Al about something, but Ginny gave them a smile and a wave which Hermione returned.

Though they had been friendly acquaintances for almost seventeen years, Severus never warmed up to Harry. Tolerated him, yes, and certainly tried for Hermione's sake (which she appreciated) but there was too much history between them for the two men to become friends.

“Where did Adrian go?” Hermione looked around, having lost sight of their son. “I hope he's not thinking of boarding that train without saying goodbye.”

Severus, having the advantage of height, steered her in the right direction. Adrian was waiting for them a bit away from the train, one hand on the cage containing his eagle owl.

“You'll send an owl by the weekend at the latest?” Hermione asked, reaching out to straighten his Prefect badge.

“Yes, mum,” Adrian replied, rolling his eyes. “I will write at least once a week, as I've done since starting Hogwarts.”

“I'm not above sending you a howler if you don't,” she threatened.

“Listen to your mother,” Severus said. “You don't want a repeat of what happened in your second year, do you?”

Adrian's ears turned pink at the memory. “No, dad.”

“How are you feeling about the OWLs?”

Hermione smiled as she watched the two most important people in her life. The pregnancy had taken them both by surprise, albeit a welcome one, and when Adrian Martin Snape _(“Under no circumstances will we burden the child with the misfortune of being named 'Severus'.”)_ came into the world at almost 10 pm on September 1st, Hermione had thought her heart would burst with love. She couldn't stop the tears of joy, love and happiness as she watched Severus hold his son for the first time.

She had known the prospect of being a father filled Severus with conflicted feelings; his childhood had been filled with both neglect and abuse, and the one thing he feared above all else was to end up like his father. She remembered vividly one night when she was weeks from her due date, finding Severus at the kitchen table in the middle of the night, an open bottle of Ogden's and a half-empty glass in front of him. He'd looked up from where his head was rested in his hands when she called his name. In the low light of the candles, she'd after some prodding gotten him to voice his concerns.

“You are not your father, Severus,” she'd said, touching his arm while cradling her stomach with the other. “I haven't any doubts that you are going to be a wonderful father.”

“You always did see the best in me.” His voice was low, and he'd reached out to put his hand on top of her stomach, caressing it slowly. “I'm not quite sure what I ever did to deserve you.”

“Mum?”

Hermione shook her head out of the past and smiled. “Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.”

“You weren't thinking of how much I've grown or how you wished you could stop time before I grow up even more?” Adrian asked dryly, but with a grin.

“Don't mock your mother,” she chastised. The train whistle blew, signalling it was time to say goodbye, and Hermione stepped forward to embrace her son. “Happy birthday, love. I love you, very much.”

“Love you too, mum,” Adrian replied, and then pulled back. “I'll send a letter with Serapis later this week, as promised. Oh, and if you find my old Transfiguration notes, send them my way?”

“Of course. Bye, son.” Severus clasped his shoulder.

Adrian smiled. “Bye, dad.”

As Adrian turned to board the train, Hermione's hand slipped into Severus'. They watched in silence as the train left the platform, and the people slowly started to leave.

“You'd think it would get easier,” she chuckled, brushing away a stray tear when they could no longer see the train and the platform was almost devoid of people.

“The house will feel empty for a week or two, but then our routine will be back to normal. It always does,” Severus replied, squeezing her hand lightly.

She looked up at him and smiled. “You're right.” Facing him, she ran a hand over the buttons on his coat. “I don't have to be back at the Ministry until tomorrow.”

He raised his eyebrow and smirked. “Really. And how are we to entertain ourselves until tomorrow in an empty house? I've some ideas that involve you and the kitchen counter.”

Hermione's pulse quickened, and she had to refrain herself from snogging him right there. They were adults now, after all. “I'm sure that can be arranged.”

They Disapparated home, and true to his word they engaged in several activities that day featuring the kitchen counter. And also the sofa. And his desk.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Loathe it? Love it? Let me know.


End file.
